


The Princess

by Masqueradehfx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 11:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masqueradehfx/pseuds/Masqueradehfx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My very first piece of Larry fanfic. Harry hates El, El hates Harry, Louis hates his life ... In other words, El has do what she must to make Louis happy again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Princess

 

"Sweetie, some guests want some photos with us."

Louis did not turn around at the approaching voice - he really didn't care. He simply returned to staring out of the large window onto the grand city below. In a room full of partiers, in a city in the throes of celebrating, he was utterly alone. No ... Never alone ... Just lonely.

"Come on Boo," Eleanor started, before the sudden glare stopped her short. But the look was gone as quick as it came, replaced with the dull look of a man who was not complete. "Sorry, Lou, habit, you know. Plus I still find it cute." El moved closer to her "boyfriend" stepping slightly to the side to give the young woman across the room a clear shot of then together. God love digital cameras, you can get really great shots anywhere now, and no one ever has to notice, especially with the small ones. She leaned in, wrapping her arms around Louis' waist as she leans her head on his shoulder. In a few days, the photos would show the loving couple have a snuggle as they survey the London scape before them. Say what you want, she had gotten damned good at setting the stage for a good candid shot.

Louis leaned in a little at the touch, the threat of a smile momentarily touching his lips. "This was a mistake," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I hate this." El does not say a word for a moment. She has heard this same litany five time already tonight, so she might as well let him finish. "I can't keep doing this to him. To us. It's not fair! They ask too much, and take even more." He stopped a moment, a sudden twisted little grin twisting his lips. "Niall figures that we're rich enough now we could afford to just have her killed. Have that big shiny stupid ball drop right on her empty little bobble-head."

El laughed at that before catching herself. That was a new part to the rant. "Ahhhh to think I used to lay in bed at night and dream of ways to make you become a homicidal master villain, just for me. Does he know that I am in on it?"

Louis shakes his head. "No, I haven't told him. I don't know why you won't let me tell him," he offers, his tone slightly pleading.

She laughs again, leaning forward a bit more to plant a soft and loving kiss upon his neck. Another photo for the press, to be sure. "Come on, there is a queue waiting for you at the photo booth," she says, ignoring the half-asked question. "Get it over with so you can get rid of them."

Louis turned suddenly, his cerulean blue eyes staring her down. "Why are you still here, El?" He asked, his voice rather hard and less than kind.

She simply smiles at hi for a long moment, tilting her head a little to the left and matching the stare. "Because I love you, Louis Tomlinson," she whispers softly, words so soft, gentle, and full of meaning that no one could doubt her sincerity. She slowly reaches out, taking his hand in hers, and kisses his fingers, Softly, lovingly, and angled just right to look wonderful on film. "But right now, that is not the issue. Your guests and your party is. So," El continues, the whisper becoming more of a low and playful, "Stop being such a diva and do your duty, gay boy! It's almost a new year!" A playful slap on the ass only emphasizes the force of her demand, and may even make the front page.

~*~

The party mostly wrapped up a few hours after midnight. The few stragglers were either the usual suspects, or management moles. They are always the last to slither out the door. Louis had long since retreated to his bedroom to tune into the NYE broadcast from Times Square. Harry would be with Swift tonight. They would be kissing at midnight. It would be live-cast around the world for everyone to see. Louis would watch. It would kill him. But he would watch nonetheless. He was too weak to look away.

Eleanor milled about the apartment, tidying up a bit. She hated seeing Louis like this. But it was happening more often. The more people who knew them, the less management wanted getting out. Sure, she could understand some of it, but now it just seemed like paranoia for paranoia's sake.

"Why are you here, Miss Calder?" she mused quietly as she threw something she was probably happier not identifying into the garbage. She asked herself that a lot. Sure, in the beginning, in those first tender weeks with Louis, she was happy and thought there might be a future there. Of course she knew it was a set-up right from the start. One does not simply "bump into" Louis Tomlinson from One Direction. That much was clear even before she met Paul. Someone must have noticed her first - Louis she had first assumed - and the gates where opened to her.

God that first week was fun! The second was ok. By the third, she knew that something was wrong. She never had Louis all to herself, even when they kissed. Mind and body, yes, but never soul. No, she had to wait several weeks until she got to see him on stage for the first time too see his soul. El chucked at the memory now. "Ahh crap!" was all she could think at the time. Yes, his soul was bright, beautiful, worthy of the angels and devils both in equal measure, but so inexorably connected to the curly haired little sexgod running around the stage as to be painful to watch. Sure, she had heard rumors before, but seeing is believing, and she was definitely a believer. And it must have showed.

Three days later she was invited to visit "Management", to discuss the "Louis situation." She was invited to visit a Mr. Decker, who to this day remains without a first name that she can identify. "Better that way," she was told. Of course it was explained to her that Louis and Harry were simply caught up in the glory of it all, fame had gone to their heads and they were engaging in "boyish behaviors detrimental to the brand." What Louis needed, she was told, was a nice girl, an "average girl, like the fans they were trying to attract" to settle him down and help him get over this silly phase he was going through. And of course, she would be compensated for her assistance, secretly, of course, but compensated well. Oh, and if she would be so kind as to just sign this standard non-disclosure agreement, very basic thing, you know, just says you will never speak of any actions you take while in the employ of management. Smiles all around. And by god she hated this man! An Absolutely morally bankrupt piece of vermin. Basically, someone she could work with.

She sat at the table for a long time, thinking about everything that had happened since that meeting. On instinct, she reached into her bag and pulled out the book she never left home without. The red fabric on the cover was frayed, and the gold leaf on the spine had long since worn away, obscuring the title. Idly she flipped through the oft read and well annotated pages, not so much reading as remembering. Lou always asked her what it was, but stopped when she finally gave in and admitted that it was a diary. He did not asked after that, and never tried to look inside. He is far to sweet to do such a thing.

Eleanor's thoughts were interrupted as Louis emerged from his room. His hair was a mess, as if he had tried to pluck himself like a chicken, and his eyes were red and puffy. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen wearing only his boxers, looking finer than any man she had seen, or probably ever would. El flashed him a reassuring smile and she set about putting on the tea.

"How bad was it," she asked, sliding the mug across the table to him.

Louis shook his head, seemingly unable to speak for a moment. "They..." He began, and faltered. "They didn't show it." The relief of his face in those few words was heartbreaking.

Eleanor started to speak when Louis' phone began to chime like mad. Twitter had exploded again. Louis opened one message, then another, then another, before dropping the phone to the table and walking back to his room in silence. The kiss may not have been broadcast, but it was tweeted to hell and back.

El took a moment to stare at the photo before her. Harry looked cold and miserable. "I hope you get frostbite, you miserable prick," she softly cursed at the photo before shutting the phone off.

~*~

Harry loved the sun. The heat seeped into places he didn't know he had. He could be very happy here, laying out on the beach and working on his tan. He cursed silently under his breath that management had not booked them a private beach - he knew Louis would love to see him with no tan lines. But no, he has to be "seen" with Taylor. This is their romantic vacation. Their time to get to know each other, be seen together, raise both their profiles. And of course, "put that silly phase behind you." There is only one thing Harry wanted behind him right now, and it sure as hell was not a phase!

His thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. Probably just as well, his mind was wandering up a hill that would be embarrassing to climax in public. It was a text from HER, again, wondering if he wanted to go with her to the lovely antique shop in town. His reply was a quick no, that he was still recovering from his New York cold, and would be spending the afternoon relaxing and trying to warm up again. That bought him a couple of hours, at least.

Harry lay his head back, and enjoyed the heat. And the silence. And thoughts of Louis.

~*~

Louis was miserable the entire week. Pictures of Harry and Taylor in the Caribbean were all over the tabloids and TV. "Haylor" was burning up twitter. Eleanor consoled Louis as best she could, gently reminding him when his public mask slipped and his real face began to show. But she was getting mad. The game was becoming a circus, and it seemed that somewhere along the line the real people were forgotten.

Harry was due home in a few days, which was lightening the mood, but not enough. Louis and El sat together on the sofa in silence, as Louis surfed through the channels, not stopping, just searching.

Enough is enough.

"Lou, this has to stop."

"What does?"

"This!", she exclaimed, pointing at him with one hand as she adjusted her pendant with the other. "You! Harry! This whole bloody situation!"

The sudden fury that ignited in Louis' eyes was terrifying, and beautiful. Of course he would get mad, she thought for a moment, he thinks I am going to say something negative about that miserable little prick.

"Calm your shorts, sweetie," she said, not giving him time to properly boil over. "I meant the lies. The deceptions. Us! It's killing you. If we're lucky it will kill him..." The look on Louis' face said it all. "Ok, ok. Maim him a little. Look, you love him, I respect that; but I still don't have to like him."

Louis stared at her for several moment, lost among his thoughts and emotions. "What do you propose. We have a contract. We can't..." His voice trailed off, leaving the obvious unsaid.

El smiled at her best gay friend, the love of her life. "No, but they can. Look, I have an idea, just promise me one thing? Ok? Don't tell Harry it was my idea."

~*~

Half a world away Harry relaxed in a hot tub with some rather famous strangers. He did not think he would ever get used to this part of his new life. Sure, he met strangers all the time, fans and such, but socially, he had been thrust into an entire new world and class. He is eighteen years old, and sitting in a hot tub with a knight who is building his own bloody space agency! Who the hell does that?

Sir Richard must have noticed him staring. His laugh startled Harry so bad he almost slipped of his seat and under the bubbling water. "Was the fight that bad, Harry?" He asked, genuine concern in his voice. They had only just met, but Harry liked the man already.

"Yeah ... Things got ... Heated," he softly replied.

"And you just left her on the boat?"  
  
A derisive snicker came from of Sir Richard's daughters. "I would have pushed her over for saying what she did about you and Louis."

Harry shook his head and simply smiled. God, management would string him up by his toes if they knew half the things he had told these people he had only just met. But isn't always easier to confide your deepest darkest secrets in perfect strangers?

"Well, Harry, I've been in business long enough to know one thing," Sir Richard continued. "This situation can't continue for much longer. You'll all be the worse for it. The truth will set you free, kiddo!"

Harry didn't mean for the bitterness to come as quickly or as deeply as it did, but he could not help help himself. "We have a contract. Some parts ... We break that, we could lose everything. Not just me and Lou, but the rest of the lads ... I ... I can't do that to them."

"Oh you dear child, who said you had to break anything? What happens if they release you from 'those parts', as you put it?"

Harry thought for a moment, the realization dawning as bright as the smile upon his face. "Nothing."

"Exactly," said Sir Richard. "Smart boy."

~*~

The group had some downtime before their trip to Ghana, and everyone was enjoying themselves. No one would go near Harry and Louis without calling ahead first, well in advance. And when the boys were all together, you could noticeably see everyone try to avoid looking directly at Harry and Louis. They were so sweet your eyes could get diabetes, and god only knows where a hand might be at any given moment. Niall spent one evening doing his best to convince Liam that he counted 5 arms where there should only have been 4, and several days thereafter commenting on people being crossbreed with an octopus.

Just before the trip, Harry and Louis called the boys together for an important meeting. They had something to discuss. Harry and Louis had talked about "The Plan" as soon as Harry got home, marveling that even half a world away they could be so in sync that nearly identical plans would form at nearly the same time. It was quite simple, really. Slowly, carefully, the boys would start to slip up - all of them. Like they used to before the ugly new wording in the new contract. Not enough to be called in breach of contract, mind you, nothing overt. Just a soft and subtle return of "Larry Stylinson". The key was for none of them to actually acknowledge any of it, pretend like nothing was happening. But the fans would see, they would know, and as the momentum built, so too would the slips. Eventually management would have no choice but to remove the gag, or risk turning off the fans and the press, and risk destroying the band as a result.

Zayne was the first to speak, so eloquently voicing what the others must have been thinking. "So what you're saying is that you two idiots want me to risk my career, my future, possibly crippling lawsuits, just so you can get your freak on?"

"I'm in," exclaimed Niall, cutting Zayne off before he could say anything else.

Liam sat in silence, staring at the lovebirds for what seemed like an eternity. Weighing all the options, looking for every place where this could horribly go wrong, and finding them all. Harry thought his head and heart would burst with the tension in the room. He actually saw Louis move in his periphery, throwing himself at Liam, before he actually noticed Liam flashing the thumbs-up. The Lovebirds. He was in.

"Fucking idiots," Zayne muttered as he got up to go for what would surely be a long series of cigarettes.

Harry was so overcome with emotion watching Louis and Niall tackling and now tickling the life out of Liam that he had to step away. He rose and headed for the kitchen, thinking beers would be in order. Lord knows they all deserved a drink for what they were about to do.

Harry opened the door to the kitchen and stopped in his tracks. SHE was sitting at the table, leafing through that stupid journal again.

"How the hell did you get in here?" He asked, moving past El as he made for the fridge.

El lifted up her key and waved it at him, her smile cutting through him like a hot knife. God he hated that woman! He rummaged around the fridge, looking for the beer he had put in to chill earlier.

"What the hell, I know I had 5 beer left in here an hour ago," Harry muttered.

"Oh ... Oops," El responded in a frightfully infuriating sorry-not-sorry tone. She held up the half empty bottle, waving it at him gently. " You shouldn't drink anyway. You're too young and it will stunt your growth."

Ok, Harry hated her anyway, but he was still rather shocked at the level of her malevolence tonight. Did she want to goad him into a fight?

"Bitch," he hisses, grabbing the remaining four bottles and making for the other room.

"It won't work, you know," El called after him, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"What won't work?" He asked.

"Your ridiculous plan to get out of your contract. It won't work," she replied, flashing a rather smug little smirk. "You think you're so smart. Pretty little Harry who can have anything he wants. Fame. Money. Any man or woman he wishes. But it's not enough, is it you arrogant and greedy little bastard, you need to take Louis too? Well your plan won't work, because it has one fatal flaw you can't overcome."

Harry was taken aback by the venom thrown at him. Fine, he knew Eleanor loved Louis and hated him, but she had never been so obvious with it before. God he hated her! But he just couldn't help himself, he just couldn't deny her the satisfaction and walk away. "What flaw," he asked, her broad smile of victory making him regret the question immediately. Fuck he hated her!

El rose from the table, dropping her book back into her bag. She paused in front of him for a moment, observing him as one might when trying to identify what the dog just rolled in. Then her smile returned. "Why, you of course, Harry dear. You miserable little prick," she replied before breezing out of the room.

~*~  
Mr. Decker's call came a few hours after the boys landed in Ghana. Apparently only 4 of the 5 rooms at the hotel were being occupied. They needed to talk.

Eleanor smiled warmly at the living slug that greeted her at his office the next morning. "Mr. Decker," she said warming, shaking the offered hand. "A pleasure, for you, I am sure," she intoned as she applied some hand sanitizer from the small bottle in her bag.

Decker did not even seem to notice the not so subtle insult, nor the small red book El held in her lap as they spoke. "They are at it again, Miss Calder," he said dryly, "It is not good for their image, or ours, for that matter."

"What do you mean, Mr. Decker," she asked, once more adjusting her pendant.

"Harry! Louis! They're at it again. The ... The gay thing. It's bad for business, Miss Calder. We cannot sell them as a clean-cut boys next door with a couple of ..."

"A couple of what, Mr. Decker. And please, call me Eleanor."

Decker, stopped for a moment, seemingly lost in her smile. "I can trust you, right, Eleanor? We're still on the same team?"

El offered her lightest little laugh. "Oh Mr. Decker, of course! You were saying ... A couple of what?"

"Perverts, Eleanor! Degenerates!" He exclaimed, seeming relieved to be in the company of an understanding other. "I blame the Styles boy, really. He's just too..."

"Free?"

"Twisted! My god, Eleanor, you must see it? The boy is forever trying to be naked, flirting with men and women alike. And every woman we obtain for him ends in a PR disaster. The damned little fruit doesn't know when to shut his mouth for his own good."

Eleanor frowned and nodded. "The women you obtain for him?" She asked, offering a somewhat confused look.

Decker slumped forward at his desk. "God you don't know how hard it has been! Yes, women! I don' t know how much money the company has spent negotiating deals to provide him with whatever woman he might desire. And what does he do? Ignores them all and goes running back to your boyfriend! Ungrateful little..."

"Prick," Eleanor offered to finish the sentence. "I call him that every chance I get. Look, they leave for Japan soon. I'll talk to Louis again, and see what we can do? I am sure things will settle back down soon enough."

Decker rose and came around the desk, sitting on the edge. "Thank you, my dear. You are certainly making my job much easier. Worth every penny we pay you. And Eleanor," he says, lowering his voice as his hand lowered onto her knee, " If there is ever anything I can do for you..." He offered as his voice trailed off.

" Oh Mr. Decker, and you a married man!" El exclaimed rather playfully, once more fidgeting with her pendant.

" God please don't mention my wife!"

"No, I'm sure you had no intention of mentioning your wife either," El commented as she rose. "We will talk soon, Mr. Decker."

~*~

Japan was a roaring success. Harry and Louis did not think they could be any more in love, but the freedom of being half a world away from home and not exactly playing by the rules opened up entire new avenues of love and exploration. The Larry fans ate it like candy!

This was followed in short succession by the "incident in France", as management put it, the "alarm clock" and "Wouldn't it be Nice" interviews, and, of all things, a football match! Decker had no idea Harry even knew what a football was! But the fans didn't care, because Hazza was with his Boobear, and the image that management had worked so hard to sculpt was being torn apart! And the most infuriating part was that they had not technically done anything that violated their contract. Nothing too overt, and certainly nothing that would confirm the rumors. Just more and more innuendo.

Things started to really wrong for Decker after that. During one of their chats, Eleanor had mentioned that a distraction might be necessary. Something sufficiently scandalous, and heterosexual, to distract from this Larry silliness and let them all get back on message. Zayne, perhaps?

Decker had no idea how wrong that idea was until 3 days later when he gets called upstairs to explain why a story was leaked accusing Zayne of cheating. Not only had Zayne blamed Harry for the mess, he also took a swing at him, completely missing and nearly breaking his hand on a wall. Now they were not on talking terms, the photos of Zayne's hand were in all the morning papers, and the Little Mix tour was in jeopardy! Decker was to fix it, and fix it fast!

And then there was the matter of Harry's birthday. Personally, Decker thought the tweet from Louis was a perfectly appropriate and masculine way to wish a friend happy birthday. Really, how could he be blamed because the fans somehow decided that "Dude & Pal" where the new puppy names for the soon-to-be-out power couple!? The only saving grace from the whole fiasco was the stripper. How Eleanor convinced Grimshaw that it would be a hilarious way to torture a young gay boy he did not know, and really didn't want to know. At least the press had something to print that wasn't about Harry and Louis and their "relationship."

But still, he was called upstairs, and told to "fix it", get the message back under control any way he could. Thankfully Eleanor was happy to assist. She must really love, Louis, he thought, to put up with such scandalous behavior.

~*~

"What do you mean my mother is coming to visit?" Louis asked Harry, nearly spilling his tea.

"That is what the message said - she is coming to town to do some shopping. She'll be here at 11."

"Bugger and bollocks," Louis cursed. "We have rehearsals!" He grabbed his phone and dialed his mother, hoping to make some sense of the unexpected news.

"Mom, hi ... Yah... Ok but we ... Yes, you can come by the reversals, but ... No ... No ... Mom... Mom... Wait ... What do you mean Eleanor..."

Harry did not need to hear any more. The name alone was enough to tell him that the bitch was trying to ruin their day. He left the kitchen in something of a huff, storming through the hallway in a simmering rage. A rage which boiled over the second he saw Eleanor in their room. "What the ... No, Never mind, get the fuck out!" He shouted, much to her obvious pleasure.

"Oh simmer down you miserable prick," he replied, "I'm meeting Jay here. Or are you too busy rutting like the animal you are to check your messages?"

"Demented bitch," Harry spit. "I said get out!"

El turned and regarded him for a moment, with no attempt to hide her disdain. " And I said no," she said in a slightly mocking whisper, "I am meeting my future mother-in-law to go shopping. So slither back to your little hovel, you little prick, I'm busy."

The words hit Harry like an earthquake, rocking him to his core, and releasing his rage like a volcano. " YOUR WHAT?! Your a psychopath, Louis is gay! He doesn't love you! He doesn't want you! You ridiculous bitch, just leave us alone!"

Eleanor just smile and winked at him as she slid past him to leave the room. "We'll see, little man, we'll see," she mocked him as she moved down the hall. "Louis sweetie, have you heard from Jay? Will she be on time?"

Louis spent the rest of the day unable to get a coherent word out of Harry, which made rehearsing ever so much fun for everyone. It only got worse later in the afternoon when Eleanor and Jay arrived at rehearsals, to pick up Niall and Zayne. Apparently they needed new tuxes, and El "knew a guy." Louis was never so glad to leave a room, even if it did mean spending the rest of the night watching Harry storm around in dead silence and glare daggers at him.

~*~

"I guess you can call him a friend of a friend," Eleanor explained as they drove through the streets of London. "He's a real up-and-coming designer. His men's wear is amazing! And Jay, you should see the dresses!" Before too long they pulled in front of a rather plain looking store front. El was right, the clothing was amazing. Very soon Niall and Zayne were driving one assistant crazy playing tuxedo mix and match, while Jay was losing herself in the gowns and dresses.

But when Eleanor let out a loud shriek, everyone stopped and turned. She stood before them holding up a stunning white wedding dress. Her tears flowed freely as she explained that THIS was her dress, the one she had always dreamed about, the dress she hoped to one day get married in. Her emotion was so powerful, so raw, that no one thought it silly that she might want to try it on, just to see. They all insisted! It would be wrong not to!

Eleanor retired to the fitting room and quickly slipped herself into the gown. She glanced in the small mirror for just a moment before reaching for her phone. She dialed a number, let it ring exactly three times, and then hung up. The same number texted back a second later. "10 ... 9 ..." The message read, and El smiled broadly.

She stepped out of the changing room, to the applause of Louis' mother and two of his best friends. All eyes were on her, so no one saw the man who came in precisely 8 seconds later. Nor did they see the camera he held. Not until the all too familiar sound of the shutter filled the room, bringing forth a shriek of shock from Eleanor, who turned and hurried back to the dressing room. But all knew it was too late. The pictures would hit the papers in the morning.

Eleanor knew one thing for certain - she knew how to set up the candid shots like a master.

~*~

Harry was beside himself with rage. Louis and Jay were beside themselves with confusion. How could Harry possibly blame poor Eleanor for this? Be reasonable, they said. How could she have possibly set this up, they asked. With every passing moment he got more worked up, mostly from the little smirks and snickers El flashed at him when the others were too distracted by his ravings to pay attention to her. She was enjoying this, and he knew it. It ended terribly when Harry's rage turned on Zayne and Niall. Niall simply broke into tears and apologized profusely, for what he was not quite sure, but he apologized anyway. Zayne had still not really forgiven Harry for his hand, and threatened to take a second swing.

Harry was so furious with everyone that he stormed out, announcing that he was sleeping at his own flat. Louis didn't think he even had a bed in the flat, but let him go anyway. Eventually Jay went to bed, exhausted from the drama of the day, and the others went home to nurse their hurt feelings. Only Louis and Eleanor remained in the living room.

Louis was quite for a very long time before finally breaking the silence. "The band is breaking apart, El, I can feel it. All because of Me and Harry. I don't ..." His voice hitched. "I don't know what to do. I just want to love him and be happy."

Eleanor fiddled with her pendant as pulled his head into her lap. "Come here, you big poof. Talk, silly boy. Get it off your chest. Tell me what your thinking and feeling. Don't hold back."

They talked long into the night, El listening attentively while Louis poured out his heart and soul - the soul that belonged absolutely and eternally to Harry. He spoke of his fears and desires, his hopes and dreams, how he wished the band to be together forever and for he and Harry to be together for just as long, but how he felt like he was being forced to chose. Louis talked, El listened, and the presses rolled at dawn.

~*~

LOUIS TOMLINSON ENGAGED?

EXCLUSIVE! Eleanor's wedding Dress

ZAYNE AND NIALL GROOMSMEN! Harry best man?

The only person happier than Decker that morning were his bosses. This was the fix they were looking for! The rumors were well and truly dead now, surly! With their pleasure came a healthy raise, and Decker felt his life was finally back on track.

For the boys, however, it all seemed to be falling apart. Harry was positively morose, and refusing to talk to anyone. Zayne was furious with everyone and no one, caught in a repetitive loop of telling Harry and Louis off for ruining his career and saying they should all just quit, because nothing was worth this much headache. Liam and Niall seemed trapped in the middle, having gone along with a plan that seemed to be blowing up around them. And Louis, he simply felt adrift, lost on a sea of despair.

Fortunately, the thing they could all agree on was that they all needed a damn good drink that evening. To get out and talk, rethink their plan, and see if there was anything they could do to fix it. As the drinks flowed, a few things became perfectly clear: management had won. The boys simply could not fight against them. "Larry" would have to leave again - what they did in private was their own business, but not in public, not now, not "during working hours". Harry and Louis could hardly look at each other. Both knew that this was the beginning of the end. No relationship could survive this strain in the long term. They had already seen the damage it could do. And they both knew the other side of that question: if it meant they could not have each other, did they even want the band? Was this the beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning.

No one had those answers for them. And as the evening drew on, all five seemed like men on edge awaiting the hangman in the morning.

Harry excused himself from the group, the weight of what was befalling them crushing the breath out of him. He needed air. What he didn't need was the voice that spoke to him as soon as he was out of the door.

"Did you like my dress, Harry? I think Louis did."

God, not this, not now, Harry thought. "Why are you here, El?" He asked in a terribly weary voice. "How did you even know where we would be?"

Eleanor leaned against the wall of the pub and offered her most malicious smirk. "Find my iPhone, every stalkers dream, sweetie. Now, Harry, you didn't answer my question. Did you like my dress?"

The fury in Harry lifted like an angry dragon. Her taunts, her jabs, he hateful ways, he couldn't stand it any more. "You rotten little bitch!" He shouted. "Leave us the fuck alone! Louis doesn't love you, he loves ME! Why the hell are you torturing us like this?" With every word more and more people moved to the windows to see the commotion. It was soon time.

"You arrogant, selfish little prick," El said, the softness of her words betraying none of the disgust behind them. "I'm not torturing anyone. Well, anyone except you."

"I've never hit a woman," Harry warned, his chest heaving in rage and pain, "but for you I'll make an exception."

Eleanor stepped forward, dangerously, threateningly close. She paused just a moment, stealing a quick sideways glance to make sure Louis and Niall were almost to the door. "I've hit plenty of girls. You'll just be one more on the list."

Louis pushed through the doors just in time to hear El shout at Harry to stop, and to see her hand come across his face with a crushing wallop. Louis rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Eleanor and rushing her away. Niall rushed for Harry - Harry in the blind rage, Harry whose blood boiled in his veins even as his heart died, Harry who didn't care anymore what anyone saw or thought. Harry who swung. Harry who cold cocked Niall, knocking him out cold. Harry who was tackled a second later by both Zayne and Liam, who themselves where now beyond reason.

~*~

The morning headlines were devastating:

1D drunken punch up - Styles, Payne, Malik arrested

Harry and Niall's drunken bar fight.

Is this the end for One Direction?

As she expected, Eleanor received Mr. Deckers frantic phone call shortly after 9am the next morning. His world and career were falling apart. There must be something they can do! He needed her help; Louis needed her help. At least on that score she and Decker agreed.

"Mr. Decker, call the boys. Bring them in for, shall we say, 11am? Why, I have no idea if the other three will be out of jail, but I would assume that would be something you can fix. Oh, and Decker, don't tell them I will be joining you."

Eleanor turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. This was it - the moment she had been working on for months was finally here. She paused a moment to admire her pendant before turning to get ready.

Eleanor made sure she arrived before the boys. Oh how she enjoyed seeing Harry's face drop when he walked in. It was almost as nice as seeing him looking a little roughed up. Niall's black eye did make her pause, however. No, that would not do at all. She would have to make it up to him. But it was the look Louis gave her that was the hardest to swallow back. The mix of confusion and betrayal near broke her - but now, at the end, when the game was almost done, now was not the time for doubt.

Decker tried to start into a rant about "brand image" and proper decorum, but Eleanor cut him off. This was, after all, her show, and her moment. "Decker, I believe we can all agree that your 'special clause' is what brings us here today." The man nodded in complete agreement, pleased, it seemed, that it would be El and not he who would be bringing Louis to heel. "We'll you see Mr. Decker, I have a problem with that. So you are releasing the boys from that ridiculous clause, and booking a sufficiently prominent interview for the boys, during which Louis and Harry will come out and formally acknowledge their near three year relationship."

The incredulity on Decker's face was beyond compare. For a brief second, his face mirrored Louis' own look of betrayal. But Decker was a professional, a shark in a deep ocean, and he quickly adapted to the loss of an ally. "Eleanor, my dear girl, why on earth would I do that?" He asked.

"If you don't," Eleanor began, removing her red book from her bag, "I will destroy you, and leaving the company severely damaged in the process."

"And how would you be doing that now, my girl?" The venom in Decker's words was clear. He did not take her threat seriously. Good. He would not be seeing it coming.

"I have recorded everything." She simply replied, touching the cover of her book softly.

Decker took a moment to look at the old book. He searched his mind to recall if he had seen it before. Surely he must have. "The book has a hidden camera?" He queried. The hesitation in his voice was all she needed. El knew she had him.

"No you idiot. The book is a book. The camera is in the pendant."

All eyes were on her as she removed a small flash drive from her pocket. Harry and Louis looked at each other, then back to El. She always wore the pendant. She had for months. Louis thought she got it after the first concert she had attended. But a camera. His eyes shot back to Harry. Dear god, what HAD she recorded!

El calmly made her way to the smart TV mounted on the wall and inserted the drive into the port. Everyone was silent as the videos started. Louis talking about Harry while he and El were having "date nights", then Decker talking about Harry and his perversions. El could see Louis' lips thinning as his anger grew, his eyes dating from the screen to Decker with increasing ferocity. When the got to the part where Decker had propositioned El, all of the boys were on their feet, ready to throttle the weasel. Harry first among them, much to El's surprise. "Boys," she said, waving for them to be seated as the video continued.

It was the long segment of Louis laying on her lap, ruminating about how empty and meaningless his life would be without Harry that brought forth tears. Harry just snuggled into Louis' arm, holding on tight, but poor Niall was sobbing. "You know, Decker, I really, like this segment. You'll be including clips of it the interview."

As the video stopped, El turned back to regard the broken man before her. "Your bosses will not like the things you have had to say about one of your biggest clients. Nor, I think, would the human right tribunal - really, Decker, it is 2013, there are some things you just don't say in the workplace! My lord, can you imagine the headlines if the press ever got a hold of it." She smiled as the blood slowly drained away from his face. "As for your little attempt at a dalliance," she continued, enjoying how his eyed widened in fear, "I am sure your bosses, the police, and oh yes, your good lady wife, need not hear of it. Assuming, of course, you provide my friends with new and properly worded contracts." Decker was nodding emphatically, broken, branded, and gelded by her. "This afternoon, Decker."

El glided back across the office, tossing the flash drive to the man. "You can keep this. I have my own copies. Now, boys, shall we leave Mr. Decker to it?"

As they rose to leave, Harry and Louis with their arms knotted together, Decker managed to croak out, "This is black mail." Eleanor turned back on the man like a lioness upon a gazelle. "And what you did to them was not?" She yelled at him before flashing a winning smile. She rubbed the cover of her book once more. "The Prince, by Machiavelli. You should read it, you miserable little prick."

Harry lifted a brow in surprise at her words. But El only smiled more. "You've been upgraded."

~*~

The six friends collapsed into the chairs and sofa of Louis' living room - Louis AND Harry's living room El reminded herself. They were spent, but still wildly excited. Decker's assistant had called while they were in the cars driving home. The contacts were being printed and would be delivered that afternoon, as promised. No changes, save for one, the most important one.

Harry and Louis were like lovebirds, knotted together still and playfully exchanging passionate kisses and whispered loves. "You did this for..." Harry began, before his voice trailed off. "For both of you," El finished.

The interview was two nights later - an hour long prime time special. The boys performed, of course, after breaking the news to the world. "They Don't Know About Us" and "Little Things" never sounded better. And the boys spent a long time praising El, crediting her with keeping them together and being instrumental in making this day happen. No details, of course. Twitter and every other social network collapsed, of course, as is only proper for such a momentous occasion. After the show, they all gathered at a near by restaurant with their friends and families to celebrate.

Curiosity got the better of Harry during the meal. El somehow knew it would. "Why didn't you tell me? Tell any of us? I mean, I almost ... Louis ... I hit Niall." Harry fell quiet as Louis continued his thought, "What are the odds of you and Sir Richard Branson coming up with the same plan at the same time?"

"Sir Richard? Such a nice man. I met him several months ago after you and Harry snuck off during a concert after party. Wonderful man, very understanding of my predicament. And he agreed with me that night that something had to be done. A little seed, planted in fertile soil, waiting for the right moment to be drawn forth. And Harry," she laughed, raising her glass to him. "I couldn't tell anyone, especially you. It had to be believable, right up to the end. And really, you are a most horrid actor!"

"Your bitch!" He replied, throwing his head back in laughter before cuddling a little closer to his boyfriend. The admiration was plainly evident in his simple words. "To our Princess!"

"Why Mr. Styles, that is the nicest thing you have ever said to me."


End file.
